What Drifts Above
by analise17
Summary: This is based off of the moment in What Lies Bellow where Olivia tries to get to Peter after passing through the CDC screening and he reaches for her. I honestly feel that had she been able she would have gone back for him. And so we play what if: what if Olivia, not Peter, slipped in the blood of patient zero?
1. Chapter 1

Summary: This is based off of the moment in What Lies Bellow where Olivia tries to get to Peter after passing through the CDC screening and he reaches for her. I honestly feel that had she been able she would have gone back for him. And so we play what if: what if Olivia, not Peter, slipped in the blood of patient zero?

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What Drifts Above

Chapter 1

Peter and Olivia has been miraculously declared clear of the virus. Once again he didn't know what higher being to thank for what seemed better than luck after Olivia had been exposed. His earlier discovery of her next to the Dutch man's gruesome body having slid in his blood left him breathless in horror besides speaking her name.

Her almost helpless expression at seeing the red stains on her hands had cut him to the quick as did her immediate shift to her default professional-mode. Her simple "Don't come near me" then her assuring _him_ in the break room that "everything will be fine" shredded his heart just a bit more. He barely noticed the plain frustration and concern leaking out from his eyes as she met his gaze in the bathroom mirror; her own determination shining through was enough stubbornness for the both of them. Wordlessly he pulled off his sweater and offered it to her in replacement of her soiled blouse then turned away while she changed; forcing himself to breathe through walls that seemed to close in.

Then she'd caused his heart to stop not two minutes later as she'd rolled up the long sweater sleeves and gone and checked the body as recklessly as he would have - exposing herself _again._

But she_ was_ fine. He was fine. Walter and Astrid were well protected and both he and Olivia would work the case from the outside. As they led the rest of the uninfected group to the main lobby he kept right behind her; as if he could guard against ancient microscopic terrors if he just kept her bright hair in view.

As their turn came to be identified and pass through the CDC barrier he allowed some of the tension that had gripped him since the danger had been unveiled to ebb. It was over; he knew his relief was selfish. There was no such promise for those left in the building.

She stepped up for her turn and he heard the guard pronounce that she was bleeding. From the nose.

He started in surprise as one word reverberated through him: _No._

Arms blocked her way and in an instant she changed. Back tense, fingers and arms curled she tried to wrestle past the guards. "FBI! Let me outside Right Now!"

Olivia struggled hard enough to hurt herself and he could sense the virus building in her, desperate for release. Terror erupted through him and his heart made the choice, accepting the danger. Peter closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her from behind to pull her away.

"Sir!"

Olivia struggled in his arms just as she had the guards but he held her fast "Let go of me! Peter! Stop this right now! I cleared the test!"

OoOoO

Olivia had to get out. Couldn't they see?! She had to get out _there_ and then everything would be fine. The building was contaminated - not her! She had Cortexiphan in her system so she wouldn't catch anything like this, right? Peter's arms were constrictive, making her want to crawl out of her skin. It reminded her of the times her step-father would pretend to care, to try to touch her, until it was too intense, too much; until it hurt. But Peter was kind; or he had been. Why was he doing this? Why was he betraying her?

She tried to fight but he gave her no quarter; she couldn't plant an elbow and when she tried to stomp his instep he just lifted her weight against his frame, denying her leverage. As she panted for a moment she felt him gather her wrists in one hand.

PpPpP

Turning her in his arms Peter looked her straight in the eyes to see the madness he had missed. Wide and unfocused orbs of sickly green rimmed in red glared back at him, shoving the pain deeper; crimson peaking from her nose and several droplets now on her collarbone that had been exposed by his large sweater on her small frame. But already the pressure in her veins was subsiding as he pulled her deeper into the building. "I have to get outside! I just need to get outside!"

Pinning her arms between them both he held her close. Peter ignored her words and relieved her of her side arm, tossing it carefully to the posted soldiers before they firmly shut the doors.

"Mr. Bishop you will need to resubmit for testing before gaining clearance again." The guards stated firmly.

"I'm not leaving her." Shaking his head he informed the CDC staff. "Please have someone contact Major Broyles, Agent Farnsworth and Dr. Walter Bishop and inform them of this development."

Peter turned his gaze to the small form trying to struggle in his arms like a feral animal and searched for a glimmer of her _\- his_ Olivia - in this altered version. Pale green eyes searched his own with tears dropping down her face in an open plea, all the while vacillating between begging him to help her and threatening him.

His Olivia would never resort to tears or act this way nor would she lie about the test. He could only pray that she was somewhere in there still and that Walter and Astrid would find the cure fast enough. Hoping somewhere inside she could hear him he made a promise "'Livia, you aren't acting like yourself. I'm going to stay with you and keep you safe."

All the same he dragged her away from the entrance and up the main stairs; best to avoid temptation.

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Reviewers receive the deepest respect. Also this is un-betaed so pointing out any mistakes would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Oh dear, I forgot the obligatory disclaimer: I own nothing, not Peter, Olivia or Fringe._

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Chapter 2

Peter could lie to himself that the reason he stayed was completely logical and professional. Olivia Dunham possessed with a malicious virus would be a force to be reckoned with akin to himself. Her training and ingenuity alone would be a problem but add the possible implications of the Cortexiphan trials he wasn't willing to take the chance - which is exactly what he would tell Broyles if – when – he asked Peter.

But the real fear was the virus' ability to drive its hosts to the extreme. He was reminded of the office receptionist's mad jump out the window. As soon as he had heard the CDC's pronouncement at the door and 'Livia's reaction his imagination had supplied the same image of Olivia in her place - broken neck and shattered bones crumpled on the pavement in the virus' desperate attempt to spread. He'd known then he wouldn't – couldn't, leave without her.

He didn't care that he was probably infected; well, of course he _cared,_ but there wasn't much he could do compared to the CDC camped outside, let alone his father and Astrid who were on the case. He finally had to admit that his feelings for Olivia were starting to dictate a greater and greater foolhardy percentage of his life. He just never thought circumstances would lead him to basically wrestling and kidnapping her for her own safety. Plus she'd started to kick.

The surrealism of the situation would have been hilarious were it not for the panic gnawing at his stomach and his heart that was slowly breaking. He'd relieved a CPU's computer cord to wrap her wrists together so he could keep one arm around her while he searched for a place to either bunk down or lock her in.

As he searched he could hear the other infected workers wildly trying to break out through the lobby and it seems Olivia's symptoms were escalating as well.

OoOoO

Why was he doing this to her? The only reason that made sense was that Walter's test was faulty and Peter was infected worse than her. If only Olivia could talk with him but he firmly ignored her attempts to understand; instead he patronized her or turned a deaf ear. Wrists bound together and arm around her shoulders pinning her to his side he dragged her along as he searched for something like a madman; she wasn't sure she wanted to know what would happen when he found it.

First she'd tried to appeal to his altruism: "The answers our _out there _Peter! We have to get out so we can help these people!"

Then remind him of his responsibilities: "Think about Walter, what this would do to him. Do you want him to end up back in St. Clairs?"

If that wouldn't do it the hard truth would: "They're going to kill us Peter! They aren't looking for a cure, but _we _can; but we have to get out of here first!"

But as he'd continued to look she'd felt panic and anger start to take over and had gone from somewhat composed to nearly hysterical fighting him all the way; now her sobs echoed down the corridor. "Stop Peter! You're hurting me!"

PpPpP

If his heart could bleed it would. Each sob pricked it again and again and nothing numbed him to the sensation.

"Don't worry, 'Livia, just a bit longer. It's going to be ok." Peter tried to soothe her as best he could, keeping her aware enough to talk; before, 'Livia had told him the receptionist's lunacy and he saw her showing the same signs of panic and paranoia. He dreaded letting her go but was just as concerned that his behavior was more detrimental than helpful as she continued to struggle. He'd lost most of her trust when he'd tied her up and already raised, angry welts were showing around the skin beneath her corded wrists as the sweater sleeves had pulled down during her efforts to loosen them; let alone the stress couldn't help but aggravate the effects of the contagion. But if she got past the doors they'd shoot her on sight; so he'd take his chances.

The next double doors opened to show something he could work with. Before them was an interior room office suite whose lights blinked on with motion sensors. The standard large desk and chair face two smaller guest chairs and on the wall across from the desk was a couch. The room was finished with stone paneling; tasteful, but more importantly sturdy. Behind the desk there looked to be a private bathroom. Pulling her along he checked inside and found that there was only the main door that led out. Perfect.

Just then he felt Olivia plant her feet and shift her body weight. With a twist and a jerk while punching him in the side two-fisted as best she could she loosed his arm holding around her shoulders that anchored her to him, giving him just enough warning to shift so her knee hit his hip and part of his stomach instead of the crown jewels.

Still, he doubled over for a second from the two blows and she fled his seeking fingers as she tried to make her way to the door. Only for his palm to slam it shut before she could open it fully.

"Sorry 'Livia" Peter delivered a sucker punch to her gut, thereby knocking the wind out of her but still holding back. She swayed for a moment before sagging into his waiting arms.

Her breath was little more than a whisper against his chest. "_Why didn't you just leave me?_"

Standing like this, in this awful moment of stolen calm with her small frame against him, Peter let himself feel all his adoration of her for just a moment despite the aching hurt it cause. He murmured his answer into her hair "I'd never leave you 'Livia." Gently he carried her to the couch and laid her down for a moment, noting that she hadn't regained her strength to fight him; sitting beside her and hating himself for her winces and shallow breaths.

She peered up at him sweaty, disheveled and pallid, her face tight with pain and an underlying anger. Her hair was coming undone from her conservative pony tail, eyes still wild and red rimmed from the virus' fever. "Don't... do this Peter...Let me ...go...They're… going to...kill us... otherwise."

He released all of his panic and fear in the sight of her own; and set aside his self-loathing for another day. Smoothing back her hair with gentleness he looked deeply into her disturbed eyes. "I promise you 'Livia, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just trying to keep you safe, alright? Please don't fight me anymore. No one is going to hurt you."

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_I can has review?_

_On another note; I've finished this so it's just a matter of uploading. But I will hold the story hostage unless I get some reviews...jk. ;)_


	3. Chapter 3

_I own nothing._

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Chapter 3

OoOoO

_"I promise you 'Livia, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just trying to keep you safe, alright? Please don't fight me anymore. No one is going to hurt you." _

The pain had subsided enough for Olivia to jerk her head out from under his hand. _Then why don't I believe you?_

His empty hand hovered for a moment before he withdrew it and regarded her coolly. "Do you need to go to the bathroom, or some water?"

Peter waited for her to shake her head. There was no way she was going to get trapped in that bathroom; it'd be too easy for him to lock her in or jam one of the guest chairs beneath the door. But maybe, "I'm a little thirsty."

Still, that calm face; like he was dealing with a child. "Will you promise me you won't try to run?"

She pretended to be worse than she was. "I doubt I could get very far."

His eyes gleamed with suspicion; wrong answer. He was going to kill her anyway. _Wait, why would he ask those things if he was going to kill me?_ But still here they were. He'd bodily forced her to stay in the building, separated her from everyone else, manhandled her and acted certifiable. He was going to keep her here until they came to kill her. There was an answer, there was a cure; the CDC just didn't want to bother finding it for such a small amount of people. Better to just cover it up and tell the public it was hopeless; Bureaucratic scum.

All the same, Peter wasn't on her side; which means he was against her. Shrewdly eyeing her he stood, then crossing to the main desk and as he crouched behind it the pop of more cables being disconnected could be heard.

Her mouth went dry and horror mixed with livid rage crept inside to strangle her. _No._ **_No_**, she would not be contained.

It took more effort than she'd hoped to level herself to her feet and quietly staggering she made it several steps before his head came up and his eyes widened in alarm at the sight of her. Calling on adrenaline she grabbed one of the guest chairs with her bound hands and threw it between his path and the door and she went for it. Peter tried to jump the chair, cables in hand, but got tripped just enough for him to stagger and land bodily on her. As they crashed to the floor Olivia felt his hand wrap around the back of her head, protecting her from the fall.

Her abused wrists sandwiched between them screamed and his weight pressing into her was too heavy, too hot. "Peter!" A plea, a warning, an accusation – she wasn't sure.

Olivia felt a pressure within her building; once again feeling the need to crawl out of her very self as her body seized beneath him and struggle wildly with pain firing down her synapses, almost melting out reality.

Peter called her name as spots swam across her vision and she felt herself starting to choke. Her bound wrists came up to knock him hard in the chin and she felt him maneuvering her despite her writhing. She could hear his voice in her ear now, behind her so far away, and the world was dimming. "'Livia fight this! You have to force it down. Breathe! Don't let it win!"

Somehow she held the pressure in check. No longer shoved on the ground by his weight, his voice in her ear grounding her from the attack she felt it relent; her vision cleared and exhaustion seeped deep into her bones. Finding her back flush with his chest she sagged against him.

PpPpP

As her body lost its fight and her head came to rest in the crook of his neck, facing away from him, Peter felt his heart start again. His voice came out a hoarse croak "You did it, you did it, Olivia." As the adrenaline left him he softly put his forehead to her hair and just breathed.

Peter idly wondered if she could hear his thundering heart through her back. Her latest attempt had brought the same reaction as when she'd tried to exit the building; the virus tried to build to its crescendo and killing her in the process. He could only guess that the stress and length of exposure compounded by Olivia's fear and panic had driven it to that point. The ironic good news is that might have meant the virus had sensed he wasn't infected so he still had some time.

Hoping it would make a difference he had pulled her upright to a kneeling position and pinned her to him – arms around her waist and bound hands, his legs anchoring hers. With him behind her he hypothesized that her natural instincts would realize it would be less effective to share the virus this way and give her the most space, but now it left him in the precarious position of getting out of said arrangement.

It didn't help that she was warm and soft and leaning on him for support in a way he often wished she would in any form in her life. Nor did it help that he could smell her hair and her even breaths had matched his own which made him never, never want to let go. But what came closest to breaking him was that she'd never been further away than this very moment.

Ever since he had met this woman his life had been turned upside down. Her resolve rivaled only her heart and he had wondered what was so important about one John Scott that could have a woman who proved to have such an irreproachable character go to such extremes for him. Later he learned that such devotion had nothing to do with the other agent; it was all Olivia. Once Peter had learned the depth of her and her core of constant strength tempered by kindness he couldn't help but fall for her. And he wondered what it would take for to gain such pure devotion from such a soul. So he waited, for her to heal, for her to be able to see him; and every day he hoped he proved worthy of such a woman.

One thing was for sure. Olivia would be heartily embarrassed after all this which would result in either two things: his death or his being treated with painful politeness for some time to come as they danced around the many interpersonal issues brought to light by this case. It seemed like their work conspired against him – while still helping them become closer in some demented form of bunny hop – as they flirted with crossing the line drawn by professionalism.

Just then, of course, his phone rang.

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_AN: Huge props to Almariado for the review and for setting me straight on the episode title, which is "What Lies Bellow" not "What Lies Beneath" hangs head in shame. Hopefully I haven't dashed everyone's dreams by admitting that no, Michelle Pfeiffer and Harrison Ford won't be making an appearance. ;) _


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Raising his eyes to tell the heavens exactly what he thought of their timing he removed one arm around her waist while leaving the other curled loosely for her support. "I'm going to take this. It could be good news." He expected her lack of reply. Holding the receiver to his ear he was met with a welcome voice.

"Bishop, this is Broyles. Where are you in the building?"

He let out a breath of relief. Broyles wouldn't contact him without a reason, hopefully a development. "I'm on the second floor in an office suite with Agent Dunham."

"I received the report from the CDC; how's she doing?" Concern slipped through that gruff exterior.

Snark was his default weapon. "She's a little tied up at the moment but otherwise stable."

A pause "Do I even want to know what that means?"

"Well, if you have to ask, then no" He couldn't help make light of events; this hadn't been a cake walk for him either.

He heard the long-suffering sigh of patience on the other end as much as he felt it "Alright. My question is this; have _you_ been infected?"

Peter mentally checked himself. He was frustrated and angry at the situation, but his normal paranoia seemed no worse than usual. Holding the phone between his head and neck he checked his nose.

Nothing. For now.

"Not as of yet. I probably have another thirty minutes before the symptoms set in."

"Listen. Dr. Bishop and Agent Farnsworth have found and tested a cure. But we are unable to administer it –"

" – Yeah, because everybody's a live-wire cuckoo bomb in here." Olivia tensed and he could tell she was about to start struggling again and he couldn't help comment on it as he secured her closer and tried to ignore how it pulled on his heart. "Really? That's all that you're getting out of this conversation?"

"Bishop?"

He refocused. "Sorry, bad choice of words to say in front of Olivia. So how do we get around that?"

"Before your symptoms incapacitate you, this is what we need you to do –"

As Broyles issued his instructions Peter found himself tightening his hold around Olivia's waist, wondering how much she could hear. He kept his replies neutral and calm absorbing the information as best as he could by blocking out the feeling of her almost complicit in his arms. He gently rubbed his free hand on her sweater-clad upper arm and he was grateful that she allowed it for the moment. Peter guessed she was truly exhausted and saving her strength for another break.

"Alright, I'll do it. I'll call you back in a minute so you can walk me through." As he hung up he kept his voice calm. "That was Broyles. They found a cure but they need me to help them gain access to the building."

Futilely trying to adjust her position in his hold Olivia's back rubbed full-on with his chest, causing Peter to hold his breath. "So where does that leave me?" The anger was there, just below her tone.

He took a couple of breaths as he debated his options. Deciding his course he chose to be honest with her "I'm going to leave you here, locked in this room. I'll try to get back as quickly as possible so you won't have to wait long."

She turned to face him with wide green eyes full of assumed honesty. "You don't have to do this Peter. Just let me go. I'll go right to the CDC when they come in." He really hated all of her FBI negotiation training right now. She waited for his reply and all he gave was silence and her face crumpled in dismay. "Don't you believe me?"

Peter felt his frustration mounting. Either way, he was in deep and he didn't feel like playing games anymore. He'd had no intention of being scripted as a melodrama villain when he woke up this morning. 'Livia wasn't in her right head; for all intents and purposes this wasn't her. Now he just had to secure her long enough to be knocked out from the fentanyl gas so the CDC could administer the antidote.

"You know what?" he said, falling into his default small half smirk "I'm going to do us both a favor and not answer or ask stupid questions that we both know you're going to lie about."

During his word's he'd released her legs and pulled her up with him as he stood. As a useful – but painful – side effect of how long she was in his hold she'd lost some circulation in her legs and he took advantage of that. Once again setting her on the couch he took one of the computer cords he'd liberated and started to wrap it around her numb ankles before she could start to fight him again. But that didn't stop the awful keening sounds of fear and her pleading that he tried to drown out with his own nonsense to comfort her. Taking the next he forced it through the cords around her wrists – wincing at her pained hiss ("I'm sorry", "No you're not") – and looped and tied it around her waist through her belt loop, all the knots far away from where she could easily access them. Lastly he laid her on her side and wedged her in the crack against the back of the couch.

Looking down at her she tested her strength against her bonds. At their hold she looked up at him in livid fury. "How could you betray me like this Peter?!"

Schooling his features blank he answered "You'll thank me later." Retrieving a plastic tumbler from the bathroom he washed it with the hand soap then returned to her with it filled. Kneeling beside her he offered her the cup; she took a couple swallows glaring at the hand he used to help prop up her head. Once done he set it aside and removed his hand. Then bending down to eye level he continued. "Listen to me 'Livia. I'm going to tie the door handles together from the other side when I leave. Even if you get out of all of this" he gestured to her bonds "you'll still be locked in here until the CDC comes." This close he could see her pupils dilate from fear. He was glad he hadn't told her about the gas; it would only have panicked her further. "I know you'll have to try – that's just who you are. But know when all this is over that I did everything I could to protect you."

Her face was a derisive smile that stung like a barb. "Sure Peter, whatever makes you feel better."

He nodded. "Alright. I'm going to go. I'll see you soon 'Livia." With that, he grabbed the remaining cord, the cup and gave the room another look: no glass or sharp metal decorations, the carpet was relatively plush and she'd have a hard time just getting off the overstuffed couch while still tied up. He doubted he could find a better set up and kind of hated himself for it.

But this wasn't about giving her a fair chance. All they had to do to win was come out of it alive. Opening the door he turned back to her once more and repeated his farewell. "I'll see you soon."

Then he stepped out and started tying the last cord.

OoOoO

Olivia heard the cord ends scrapping the wood as Peter tied the two handles together. Wasting no time she tested her bonds again. He'd pulled her tied wrists flush against her stomach with the other cord and no matter how she yanked the knot pulled at the back of her pants instead of slipping around. Her ankles, she'd noted, he'd knotted behind her legs making it impossible to reach them with her restricted hands.

Next she tried to kick off her shoes to see if she could slide the bonds over one of her feet and at least allow her to stand and walk but even removing them they were well secured. _Stupid Boy Scout_ she sneered in her mind. She felt too hot in his confounded sweater, too planted in the deep, plush couch and could only writhe in panic and scream her frustration and hatred at him. And once she started, she found it hard to stop.

PpPpP

Just after tying and testing the knots Peter had waited outside the room with an ear pressed to the door. Hearing her struggle but not sounds of her breaking free he dialed Broyles back to tell him of Olivia and his location and so that the FBI agent could lead him down to the fuse box. As he turned the corner and headed towards the stairs he stumbled and stopped as he heard an unearthly scream coming from the room he'd just left. And another that didn't seem to end.

"What is that?" Broyles asked.

Peter gave a strangled reply "Olivia." Breathing heavily and checking his urge to look back, he continued to the service room, praying that she would be able to come back to him.

…

Just as he had thrown the switch for the ventilation system Peter sped his way back up the stairs. Checking each turn as he went for any infected wanderers he made his way quickly back to where he'd left Olivia, trying to hold his breath as much as possible and breath through his shirt.

The door was in view, easily marked with the bright blue cord and he found that his hands fumbled to untie the loops. As the last one gave way he staggered into the suite and struggled to keep his blurry eyes from closing before coming to her side. She'd managed to turn on her stomach and her legs were off the couch, about to drag her body to the floor. All of her hard work was wasted when he came up and pushed her back on and collapsing almost on top of her. She'd mussed her clothes more trying to get out and now an impotent sneer curled her lips as she regarded him right next to her. Right arm thrown out across her hips and head pressed into her belly he couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. Just before they both slipped away he gave her a goofy grin courtesy of the gas.

"See? Told you I'd see you soon." Then the world peacefully slipped away.

* * *

_AN: I don't mean to underestimate Olivia, but she really should take a break; after all she is exhausted._

_Thank you to everyone for reading. I'm sincerely flattered by all the attention this story is getting; next is the epilogue. ;)_


	5. Chapter 5: Epilogue

Chapter 5

OoOoO

Olivia slowly came to consciousness feeling like she'd been hit by a freight train. As she braved opening her eyes the bright world dipped and turned before finally resolving into some form of clarity she hadn't realized had been missing before she was knocked out.

The first thing she noticed as white fabric greeted her high above her head was that she was no longer in that building. The next thing her eyes alighted on was the slight form of a woman standing beside her, alternately smoothing her hair back and blotting sweat from her face with a cool, damp towel. A sweet voice whispered "welcome back Olivia" and she felt the safer for its owner's familiarity.

On her other side stood a man, tall and imposing in comparison to another, older one behind him. She knew him. His face was burned into her mind, mixed with so many emotions it was hard to categorize her feelings for him. But she did know he'd been the last thing she'd seen through a fearful haze before slipping into darkness.

Vaguely she could see he had blue eyes, dark hair and matching stubble on his face. Dark patches below his eyes made him look aged and there was a wrinkle of worry between his brows. As she was able to bring his image into focus she found that those eyes looked unwaveringly into her own; the furrow between his eyebrows smoothing as his face broke into an open smile.

"Good Morning Sleeping Beauty." At his voice a name surfaced from memory: Peter. This was Peter.

Peace continued to hold her as their gaze strengthened, and at the sound of his voice any residual feelings of fear or anger fled before that sunny smile that went all the way to his eyes. The other faces matched with names – Astrid and Walter. Here was haven, amongst friends, and her safe harbor in that twinkling blue look.

Still in a gentle haze Olivia took in her surroundings. She was lying on a cot in what appeared to be one of the CDC tents. Her fever had broken and there was a slight throb in one of her upper arms eclipsed by those in her wrists. Her mind, though fuzzy as the wool tucked around her and a bit confused had quieted from the rage that had held it before.

"Peter." Her dry throat protested but will always won out "what happened?"

Astrid stopped blotting her hair for a moment and murmured about getting another IV drip while quietly stealing away.

Peter gave a slight smile while Walter similarly puttered off talking about getting her a drink. "Walter and Astrid found the cure; to buy time Broyles asked that I turn on the ventilation system so they could dope us till it was synthesized. That's why I left you when I did."

Memories of anguish and hurtful words assaulted her new found peace. She'd tried to attack him, forced him to subdue her and he'd still refused to leave her despite her hateful insanity. "I'm so-so sorry Peter." Her feelings choking her words worse than her discomfort and she had to blink away the accompanying blur of tears.

Gazing at her steadily he came closer and gently sat on the edge of her cot. "Don't be, 'Livia. You weren't yourself." A tentative hand came and smoothed her hair as he had earlier that day. But this time she had no urge to move out of his reach. "I promised you that I would keep you safe and I did; you would have done the same for me."

His hand moved to brush the outline of her wrist under the blanket and his eyes followed its path with what seemed to be dismay. "I'm just sorry that I couldn't have done a better job."

Olivia shook her head slightly, bringing his gaze back to her own and let sincerely flood her voice, "You have nothing to apologize for Peter." Her temporary serenity made her braver than normal, "Thank you, for not giving up on me – for risking yourself just to protect me."

Just as she had rallied the siren call of sleep started to pull her under, but Olivia was never one to go quietly. Fighting its lure she caught a gleam to his eyes, some hidden depth she hadn't noticed before, or maybe she hadn't wanted to notice before. As soon as she marked it her eyes refused to obey and instead crept closed. She felt a rustle, then further warmth hovering just above her. A light brush of lips against the crown of her head seemed her imagination were it not for the soft breath that stirred her hair. "You're welcome. Sleep, Olivia. You're safe now."

"We're _both_ safe now." She slurred. Once again feeling vulnerable, but protected, she succumbed.

_And I'm here, _

_To stay,_

_Nothing can separate us._

_And I know_

_I'm ok._

_You cradle me gently,_

_Wrapped in your arms_

_I'm home._

"Wrapped in Your Arms" by Fireflight

* * *

_AN: Thank you everyone for your generous support reading this. I would greatly appreciate hearing from you so drop me a line. :)_


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